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Halfway up the stairs, I paused and looked back. "You could have just asked nicely, and it wouldn't have been a problem next time."
"And you could have remembered what I told you," he returned, I turned around only for him to disappear back into his office.
I stared after him until the door fell shut. Promptly the feeling of guilt set in. I remembered very well what he had told me, but also what resonated between the lines and had not been entirely obvious.
My sudden disappearance had been one of the scenarios he was afraid of – he had probably played out the worst-case scenarios in his head, reliving old memories, until Emilio had finally told him that I was with Carlotta, Fiero, and Natale.
Merda.
I bit my tongue and rolled my eyes. Why did he have to start the conversation with accusations? Of course, he would be upset if I was correct with my assumption, but that didn't mean he could treat me like his property.
Protection or not, Vincenzo had to understand that sometimes things happened that you could not influence, no matter how hard you tried. Some things just happened. Without reason. Without being able to prevent it.
That was the way life went. And that would certainly not change based on his experiences.
Nevertheless, I had a guilty conscience and immediately went upstairs, quite demotivated. My mood was good until Vincenzo had waited behind the door and tried to blame me for everything.
There was nothing to deny that I had actively decided – namely, not to tell him I was going out and to trust that he would not notice or just hear about it from someone else.
Once in my bedroom, I threw the bag on the bed and dug out my cell phone. Emilio's number was fortunately already saved, so with only two clicks I could call him.
He didn't keep me waiting long. "You're still alive,bellissima? After Vince hung up, I wasn't so sure he might not rip your head off."
I gave a grumble. At least that would have been more pleasant than the realization that had hit me after the brief argument.
"Just about," I quipped. "You should have told him about it, Lio."
"I had assumed you were all grown up enough to explain something like that to each other. But I guess that assumption was wrong."
"It's not my fault he's so paranoid," I replied, the statement was only partly true.
"By now, you should know he's a special case." Emilio sounded level-headed.
"I hardly ever get to see him. And he fends off any advances, no matter how platonic."
"Because we're talking about Vincenzo. You have to force him to be happy."
"So why haven't you guys been doing that for the last few years?"
"Because he lives in the sticks and only wants to see us on his terms."
"He doesn't make it easy for anyone, does he?"
"Not really," Emilio grumbled. "But he gave a shit that you just disappeared. That means he at least cares about your well-being."
"It's the same when it comes to you guys."
"We are family."
"Sure thing," I said, rolling my eyes. As if that made such a big difference.
"Just make sure he goes to that party with you and convinces your father that he doesn't have to worry anymore. I know he'd rather see him dead, but that's still not a realistic option. And not because he's your dad, but because it would get us in more trouble than we'd get out of."
"That sounds wonderful," I murmured. It wouldn't make me sad if my father died, and I credited Emilio for not letting those blood ties get in the way. In the end, however, the situation remained the same.
I had to convince my father that Vincenzo and I were making the marriage work.
"Perhaps it would have been easier if you had ignored his demands."
